


Not Falling for You

by ElisabethMonroe, Sarsaparilla



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hot Tub Sex, Hotel Sex, I was really mean to Sam, I'm Sorry, M/M, Nightmares, Non-Graphic Violence, POV Sam Wilson, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam Wilson-centric, Traumatic Injury, and Steve's the biggest cockblock in history, because those aren't always the same thing, but there's also
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-10 15:12:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11129370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElisabethMonroe/pseuds/ElisabethMonroe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarsaparilla/pseuds/Sarsaparilla
Summary: In which:Sam imagines Bucky falling five timesAnd one time he doesn't have to





	Not Falling for You

**Author's Note:**

> For the Captain America Reverse Big Bang! Art embedded within. This story was such a labor of love. I sat down knowing exactly what I wanted and then ended up doing something mildly different. I got frustrated with myself and stopped and started again and again until I finally found the rhythm of the characters. I'm glad this is how it ended up.  
> The Amazing Artist: [Sarsaparilla](http://sarsasart.tumblr.com/)  
> My Beautiful Beta: [DapperAnachronism](http://dapperanachronism.tumblr.com)  
> Authorial Intent Note: The beginnings of Sam's dreams (anything that's believable) are supposed to be memories so, yay.

This was all Riley’s fault. The other pilot would scoff and ignore the accusation and he’d be right to. Of course it wasn’t Riley’s fault. It was Sam’s fault. Sam’s brain. How could he spend all of his time helping people cope when he couldn’t even do it himself?

Just as he’d gotten Bucky sleeping through the night--with no small amount of not sleeping beforehand--Sam found himself falling into the same nightmare he’d been having for years. How it happened was different every time but it always had the same end result.

He’d just woken up, far past lurching to a sitting position. He laid in bed and heaved in breaths, trying to slow them down. He trailed his hand up his stomach and chest to rest over his heart, feeling the frantic beats and holding his breath until they slowed to something more reasonable. It took a lot of concentration and control to not hold his breath so long that it sent his heart racing again so it was helpful distraction to his mind.

He was forgetting Riley. He saw dark hair instead of sandy blond. His pararescue suit was dark and tight and he couldn’t find the familiar flag on his shoulder. How could he possibly forget Riley?

He felt an arm around his waist suddenly and warm breath on his neck. “Sammy,” Bucky hummed in contentment. “Sammy. Sammy. Sammy,” he damn near chanted, managing to press lazy kisses to his neck between words.

“I hate when you call me that,” Sam accused softly. He brought hand up to Bucky’s hair and worked his fingers through it. “You need to shower.”

Bucky grunted and fell silent for a moment. “I’m tryin’ta comfort you and you go an’ ruin it.”

Sam smiled at the sleepy slur that really took over his Brooklyn accent. “Go back to sleep. You’ve gotta still be sore.”

“I hate you.”

“I know you do.”

Still, Bucky pressed his face into Sam’s shoulder and was quietly snoring again. He’d rub his jaw against Sam’s skin and send a shiver through his body. But it was soothing and he was warm and Sam was soon drifting off again.

 

 

1.

_He woke up in the desert with a start. He was soaked in sweat and a particular reek was working its way out of his shirt. He had barely blinked the sand off his eyelashes when there was suddenly a painful weight on his chest._

_“Wake up, ya gap toothed nerd!” Riley laughed, running his rough hands over Sam’s mostly shaved head. He was obsessed with the less than buzz cut, more than bald roughness that Sam’s hair provided and Sam was more than happy to let him be so._

_“Get off me, you elephant. God, you’re heavy. And loud.” Still, he didn’t push Riley away. Instead, he reached up for Riley’s wrists and held onto them gently, staring up at the man and quickly scanning his features. He didn’t know why he felt like he had to memorize them. Something about a dream. A left over ache from something that wasn’t real._

_Sandy hair and dark freckles and tanned skin. Dark eyes that always had some kind of light in them anyway. He was taller and broader than Sam, just built differently entirely. Sam would bulk up if he worked out harder than he normally did but Riley’s broad leanness never seemed to change. His nose was crooked from one too many drunken brawls but it just made him look more like a young hearted idiot with his wide grin._

_“Stop lookin’ at me like that, ya dope,” Riley laughed but his eyes were warm and his hands skimmed down to Sam’s neck, thumbs resting on his jaw. “You’re gonna get us caught,” he murmured with a smile._

_“Can’t help it,” Sam answered with his own grin. “You’re just so funny lookin’.”_

_Riley’s face fell into an expression of mock shock and he collapsed against Sam, tickling his sides and holding him close so Sam couldn’t wiggle away._

_“No! Stop, stop!” Sam begged in laughter. “God, I’m gonna piss myself. You can’t do that to me this early in the morning.”_

_Riley laughed and laid next to Sam, running a hand up and down his chest slowly. “Your heart’s racin’ like it does in the sky,” he teased. “Swear I can feel it meters away from you.”_

_“You cannot. Our vitals are just jointly monitored,” Sam scoffed. He shifted his arm around Riley’s shoulders when the man moved to lay his head on Sam’s shoulder._

_“Ah. And here I was thinking we were synched up.”_

_Sam rolled his eyes and squeezed Riley’s shoulder gently. “You’re such a fuckin’ sap, y’know that?”_

_“Can’t help it,” Riley mimicked. “Now come on. Get up. We have that combat mission tonight and you’re cranky if you sleep too long.”_

_“That’s not true.”_

_“It is! You’re the only person who shouldn’t sleep for too long.”_

_Sam shoved Riley’s chest and turned over to lean against him. “Just give me a few more minutes…”_

_“Sure, baby. I’ll make sure it’s not too long.”_

 

Sam woke up with his face pressed to Bucky’s chest. They were a complicated mess of tangled limbs and sheets. The uncomfortably cool sensation of dried sweat coated Sam’s body and the fan was doing nothing to remedy the situation. Sam slowly extracted himself from Bucky’s arms and legs and moved to the bathroom to run a cold shower to get the filth off of him. That was one good thing about Bucky. Once he was down, he was out. No easy feat either but it was something of the 40s that they’d managed to pull to the surface.

Bucky was still asleep when Sam stepped out of the shower in a towel, which was a waste, but forgivable. He padded into the kitchen to start some breakfast. He’d already missed his run with Steve, if the light filtering in through the blinds was anything to go by. He bent over to grab a pan from a bottom cabinet and when he stood up, he saw a tall blond standing in the living room. He damn near dropped the pan and his towel.

“Riley?” he asked, even though he _knew_ it couldn’t be. Too big. Too alive.

“What?” Steve asked, turning around and furrowing his brow. Which then smoothed out and rose when he took in Sam’s lack of dress. “Is this a bad time?” he asked. Sam didn’t miss how his eyes flickered to the hallway that hosted the bedroom.

“He’s asleep,” Sam promised. “Woke up in the middle of the night with me and God forbid he doesn’t get eight consecutive hours.”

A grin broke out on Steve’s face. “He’s doing better.”

Sam nodded and leaned on the counter before straightening and thinking better of it. “Let me go put on clothes,” he offered, though he really didn’t want to.

Steve waved him off, already preoccupied by the book Bucky had been reading and left on the arm of a chair. Sam disappeared into the bedroom and pulled on sweatpants and a shirt. Bucky was still passed out, holding Sam’s pillow to his chest and face with one leg hooked up to Sam’s side of the bed. Bastard. Could sleep through a hurricane probably. Sam slowly grabbed his phone and snapped several pictures before retreating back to Steve.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. It was barely eight. Steve usually wouldn’t even be done with his run yet.

“Oh, I just wanted to stop by. See if Buck was up to running around town. I know you’re working today.”

Sam, in fact, wasn’t working today and had planned to spend his afternoon on the couch with his boyfriend. He wasn’t going to _tell_ Steve as much. Bucky was Steve’s best friend long before he was Sam’s boyfriend. Sam got to see him all of the time and he could tell Steve was itching to be with him again. Many a time, Sam had offered the spare room to Steve but he denied and shook it off with a blush and an ‘aw shucks, thanks but nah’. Bucky had promptly thanked him and promised there would have been ‘more sex than you could imagine, Stevie’ which had sent Steve scampering out the door.

“Well, you’re more than free to hang around here,” Sam offered.

“Do you need help with anything? I can probably make toast.”

“Well...I don’t know. Not really in the mood to make anything now. Do you want something to drink?”

“Water’s fine.”

Sam grabbed a glass and filled it with water and then set about making a bowl of cereal. He sat down in the living room and Steve followed and legitimately pulled out a newspaper to read. Sam rolled his eyes but settled in with his phone.

As if he could sense the presence of someone else in the apartment--he probably could--Bucky showed up five minutes later, dressed and with the distinct imprint of a knife in his pocket. Sam wouldn’t be surprised if there was a gun in the waistband too.

“Those are my pants,” Sam said. Bucky waved him off and stepped over the back of the couch to sit by him when he realized it was just Steve with them. He sat behind where Sam was sitting on the ground and bracketed his back with his knees, brushing a hand over his head.

“You’re both awake too damn early.”

“Glad to see you too, Buck,” Steve snorted.

“I ain’t savin’ Manhattan until at least ten in the morning,” Bucky said. Steve snorted again and threw the newspaper at Bucky.

“Just wanted to know if you wanted to go out. I was gonna swing by Hell’s Kitchen and  I know you’ve got those...contacts down there.”

They were Sam’s least favorite contacts but sometimes Bucky came home with a dog to watch for a few days so it wasn’t all bad. Bucky grunted and probably shrugged. “Need to go out anyway, I guess.” Which meant he should have gone out weeks ago. Bucky was good at holeing himself up until the very last possible minute to get whatever he needed. _That_ habit, they hadn’t broken yet. “You okay with that?” he asked, tugging at Sam’s ear.

Sam hummed his assent, though he didn’t want to. “Maybe I can finally get some housework done around here without you distracting me all the time.” He tilted his head back to stick his tongue out at Bucky above him and Bucky leaned down to kiss him. Hard. Alright, that was kind of hot. They’d have to do that again when there wasn’t an audience. Steve shifted uncomfortably on the next chair over and Bucky must’ve heard it because he pulled back to throw a grin towards Steve before leaning down and doing it again. Sam was pretty certain everyone heard the noise he made then and Steve jumped up.

“If it’s a bad time, I’ll just come by later,” he offered. “You can text me. That would be completely fine.”

“Aw, Stevie, I’m just havin’ fun with ya’,” Bucky laughed. He ran his hand along Sam’s head and Sam shivered at the familiar feeling with unfamiliar hands. “Look at him,” he added, tilting Sam’s head forward. “If he was yours, you wouldn’t keep your hands off of ‘im either.”

Sam shook his head and nudged his elbow into Bucky’s knee. “Let him live, dude.”

“He ought to let me live my fullest. With you.”

“You do that every night.”

Bucky grinned wolfishly. “Hell yeah, I do.”

“Guys!” Steve objected, cheeks a fiery red.

“Yeah, yeah. I hear you, drama queen,” Bucky said. He stood up and pulled Sam with him. “Let me go put on clothes.”

“Why do I feel like you’re gonna take everything off first?” Steve groaned.

Bucky grinned and wrapped an arm around Sam’s waist. “Because you know how changing works.”

Sam bit down a laugh and let Bucky drag him back to the bedroom. “You oughta be nice to him. He’s the only one who tolerates you.”

“Oh, you don’t?” Bucky asked in faux hurt. He crowded up in front of Sam and ran his hands down his back slowly.

“Only on alternating Wednesdays.”

“Wilson, I’m betrayed.”

“I’m sure you are,” Sam agreed. He wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck and tugged him closer.

“More than I can say and I’ve been left in action before,” Bucky murmured, resting his hands on Sam’s waist and leaning into to kiss his jaw. So, he was well aware of Sam’s flinch when it happened. He pulled back so fast, Sam was sure his head must have spun. “What? Did I do something wrong?” he asked, bring a hand up to Sam’s jaw.

Sam shook his head and then tilted it to press a kiss to the inside of Bucky’s wrist. “No. I just…” He shrugged and squeezed Bucky a little closer.

“Does this have anything to do with why you were awake this morning?”

Sam sighed and nodded. “I’ve just been...having these, like, flashbacks or something. Riley’s…”

Bucky’s face smoothed and he pulled Sam into a tight hug, holding the back of his head and stroking his thumb over a bump in it softly. Sam was glad he was using his metal hand so Sam didn’t look for callouses that weren’t there. “Hey. It’s okay. You can talk about it.”

“I just miss him so fucking much,” Sam whimpered, barely able to get the words out for the choked back tears. “And I’m scared I’m forgetting him. I can barely remember his eyes. He ends up looking like Steve and I know it’s wrong. I know it! And I can’t stop it.”

“Hey, calm down. It’s okay. You’re not forgetting him. You have his picture in your wallet. You can see him whenever you want,” Bucky murmured. “You have all of his things here. You can look at whenever you want. Do you want to do that today, baby?” Bucky asked softly.

Bucky was going out with Steve. He couldn’t take away the one time Steve had actively asked for his best friend back. He’d be just fine on his own. “No, it’s okay. Go out with Steve,” he insisted as he brushed a hand through Bucky’s hair.

As if summoned, the super soldier was suddenly in the door, knocking softly on the frame. “What part of not before ten in the morning do you not understand?” Bucky asked with far more vicious sounding venom that he actually felt.

“Not me, doll,” Steve answered. He held up his phone. “We’re getting called out to a dispute in Tokyo.”

Bucky groaned and made a show of pulling Sam closer to bury his face in his shoulder, as if Sam was the one providing support. Sam really, really, really loved him. Sam smiled and tugged on his hair gently. “Guess you better bump that shower up.”

“You can shower on the Helicarrier. It’s already fired up at the tower.”

“Who all’s going?” Which sounded like Sam was asking if Clint and Banner would be there but, really, he was figuring out his place in the lineup.

“Banner is still MIA. Clint’ll be there. Nat, Tony. Us three. Thor’s offworld,” Steve answered. Sam didn’t miss how he slipped the important information in the middle. If Bucky knew that the team usually justified not bringing Sam, God knows what he’d do. Sam really loved Steve too.

“Wanda and Vision?” Bucky asked.

Steve shrugged. “You know as much as I do now. I’d probably pack a bag. It sounds like we’ll be scouting first. Your tactical gear won’t be enough for civilian coverage.”

Bucky let go of Sam just long enough to grab a bag from under the bed. “Done.”

“Is my stuff in there?”

“Of course it is. If I was running, I’d take you with me.”

Sam melted and he almost forgot the rest of his planned tirade. “What did you pack? Is my blue flannel shirt in there?” He took the sheepish silence as an affirmative. “I’ve been looking for that! How many pairs of underwear are in there?”

“Look, the important thing is that we’re ready,” Bucky defended, though a boyish smile was creeping across his lips.

“I thought I was going insane! You let me accuse you of ruining my underwear every night.”

“Can we not do this in front of Steve?” the blond demanded for Bucky.

“Baby, it’s okay. All’s well that ends well.” Bucky kissed Sam’s cheek sweetly and reached for his hand. “Did you drive up here?” he asked Steve.

“Uh, no. Ran.”

“There are taxis,” Sam reminded impatiently because he was not running with these two at the same time. Especially not to a mission or the center of New York.

 

2.

The thing about being a pilot was that you weren’t scared of the sky if you were in control. It was a lot like decent drivers being terrible at being in the passenger side. Sam hated riding in any kind of contraption he wasn’t controlling.  He’d come prepared though. Alright, Bucky had come prepared. He’d packed sleeping pills in the bag and when he saw Sam getting fidgety on the crew hold of the Helicarrier, he pulled him down and pressed two pills into his palm.

“We’re gonna talk to Banner about getting you something special because this is just ridiculous. We can’t have a comatose soldier on the field,” Bucky tutted like he did every single time they got on an aircraft together.

“Leave me alone. The works just fine. We have the dosage down to a science and this is a long trip. Besides, we’re not expecting action until later this week, if at all.”

“We could always try something a little different than pills. Something else that’ll distract you?” Bucky suggested, running his hand along the inside of Sam’s thigh. He leaned over to kiss Sam’s jaw and must have felt the sharp intake of breath if the smirk that spread his lips was anything to go by.

“You think you could go that long without killing me?” Sam snorted. “I ain’t Steve.”

“I don’t have a clue what Steve can do in the bedroom. But I’m very attuned to you.”

“Ah, shut up. It’s a fourteen hour flight. No matter what you do, it’ll be too much for my human body.”

“I happen to love your human body. And the flight won’t be that long. We get to go faster than commerical planes.”

After that, Bucky’s words got slurred and Sam couldn’t fight to keep his eyes open or focused on anything. He slouched over to lean on Bucky’s shoulder. He felt Bucky squeeze his thigh and assumed he’d be moving his hand but he never felt it leave his jeans.

 

_“You’re fuckin’ jokin’ right?” Riley demanded with a snort and an obvious glance at Sam’s death grip on the seat rest._

_“Shut the hell up,” Sam muttered back through clenched teeth and a tight jaw. It was only the take off, he lied to himself._

_“Dude, you fly combat missions with a bunch of idiots. This should be a piece of cake.”_

_“Well, it’s not. So shut up and ignore me,” he demanded._

_“Or...I could not do that and we could sneak off to the toilets once we’re level.”_

_Sam glanced over at his partner, the man he literally trusted with his life, and raised an eyebrow. “Dude, everyone’s gonna notice that.”_

_“Yeah and? We’re wearing the fatigues. What’re they gonna do? Tell us we can’t? Once we get back to your mom’s, she’s not gonna let us stay in the same room. I need my fill and you need to be distracted. This is perfect.” He leaned up to press a kiss to Sam’s cheek and then got distracted and started kissing his jaw and what of Sam’s neck that he could reach._

_Sam shoved Riley away with a tight laugh. “Stop. Stop it, Riles!”_

_Riley grabbed Sam’s hand and brought his knuckles to his lips instead. They stared at each other in a silent battle of will and Sam usually lost those when Riley brought in his stupid big amber eyes. At some point, an automated system--or maybe it was a stewardess--informed them that they could move again. Riley jumped up._

_“Excuse me, sir. I just have to run to the bathroom,” he said, knocking a knee painfully against Sam’s as he shuffled past. “I’m gonna give you the crotch this time, just to entice you a little more,” he added with a grin, lurching too hard into Sam’s space when the plane evened up just a bit more._

_“Fuck you, man,” Sam laughed, shoving him upright again._

_“I’m tryin’.”_

_Riley was gone for approximately five minutes before Sam groaned and stood up to follow him. He looked sick enough as he moved carefully down the aisle that people actually shifted away from him. He banged on the door and didn’t get a response but the lock clicked and Sam let himself in._

_Only to have his body shoved roughly against the wall before he could even shut the door. Riley reached behind them without parting their lips and pulled the door shut and locked it too._

_“Why do you always got to keep me waitin’?” he murmured eventually. He rested his hands over Sam’s collarbones and then pulled him into another kiss._

_Sam made an objecting sound but didn’t complete his argument in lieu of bringing his hands up to Riley’s head and tugging on the slightly longer than normal haircut he was sporting. “Don’t think you’re in regulation, soldier,” Sam finally managed to get out._

_Riley’s eyes lit up with that mischievousness that everyone loved for some reason or another. “Is that gonna be a problem, officer?” Sam wasn’t actually any higher ranked than Riley but he’d let Riley pretend._

_“Nothing goes without punishment. You of all people know that.”_

_“Yes, sir. I do.”_

_“I’m starting to think you like it.”_

_“Of course not, sir.” Riley schooled his face into a hard mask of sadness and fear. Sam fought down a grin._

_“Good. Drop down to--Riley!” Sam finally laughed, hands remaining in Riley’s hair as the man hit the floor so hard even Sam’s knees ached._

_“Just speedin’ up the process, sir.” He ran his hands along Sam’s thighs and reached up for his velcros and zippers. Sam dropped his head back against the wall and ran an encouraging hand through his hair._

_“No teasin’ soldier. If you’re gonna speed up the process, you’re gonna follow through.”_

_“Yes, sir,” Riley laughed and still mouthed over the rapidly growing bulge in Sam’s briefs without actually doing anything. Shithead._

_The plane hit a bit of turbulence but Sam didn’t notice. He tightened his fingers in Riley’s hair and looked down to find long, dark strands. His mind was foggy and heavy and he couldn’t make the image connect to anything in his brain. Riley never did anything to his hair. If it grew out of a buzzcut, it was a miracle._

_“Doll, if I knew you were into this shit in public, I coulda gotten you off a thousand more times,” Bucky groaned against the inside of his thigh._

_“What?” Sam managed. A headache was starting to pierce his left temple and there was a high pitched ringing around them._

_“What what, kid?” Riley asked, all amber eyes and blond hair._

_“I thought I saw…”_

_“A puddy cat? Come on, dude. I ain’t that weak in my head game yet.”_

_Sam blinked down at him and ran his fingers through Riley’s hair softly. The plane lurched again and Sam stumbled, ending up in a tangled pile of aching limbs with…Bucky._

_“Ow, what the fuck? A little bit of warning so I can at least make sure you’re hitting my reinforced side.”_

_“Shut up,” Sam muttered, trying to sit up. The plane tilted down and Sam quickly grabbed Riley._

_“Fuck! What is with this plane?” the blond demanded roughly. He got to his feet and pulled Sam with him. “You okay?” He brushed calloused fingers over a blooming bruise on Sam’s forehead. The ringing got louder. A kid screamed from outside the bathroom._

_“We’ve gotta help.”_

_“Not before ten in the morning,” Bucky...Riley...Bucky insisted. Sam shook his head and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes._

_“Dude, let’s go,” Riley insisted. “We’re trained for disaster. We just have to keep people calm.”_

_Sam shook his head. “If you leave this bathroom right now, you’re going to end up part of the wreckage. At least if you stay here, there’s a little more protection,” Bucky insisted._

_Riley grabbed his hand and pulled Sam into the fray. Oxygen masks were down and luggage was scattered around. Someone had drawn a crowd and Sam and Riley shoved forward, spouting off their credentials. Some old man had a gash in his head and Sam sat back on his heels._

_“Does anyone have a scarf? Bandaids? Anything?” he asked. “Why are you all just standing around?” He looked frantically at the crowd and no one moved. When he looked down again, it was Riley’s mangled body and he squeezed his eyes shut. Bucky grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away._

_“Dude, pull it together,” Riley insisted, wiping away tears streaming down Sam’s face. A horrible screech ripped through the plane and Bucky grabbed Sam tightly in his metal arm. When the wall finally gave in, though, it was Riley who was holding onto him and Riley who was falling away and Sam was still in the air. Strong wings beat around him and Riley was still falling. But it wasn’t Riley. It was Bucky. Bucky reaching up to him with a metal arm, with two flesh arms, with a terror stricken expression on his face._

_Sam tried to fly down after them. Tried to catch at least one of them. They kept changing and Sam had no idea what was happening or why but the wings kept him in place. Fucking white feathers drifted down after the loves of his life and he couldn’t move. He didn’t know which name he screamed out. Maybe it was a mantra of both of them._

 

“Sam! Sam! Sam, wake up!” Bucky insisted, shaking Sam’s shoulders and probably giving him a damn concussion. As soon as Sam’s eyes flickered open, Bucky had his hands on Sam’s cheeks, tilting his head in every direction he could think to.

“What’re you doin’?” Sam mumbled, the sleep drugs still making his limbs heavy and his brain foggy.

“Oh, Christ,” Bucky breathed, pulling Sam to him and holding onto the back of his neck tightly. “I thought you were fuckin’ dying.”

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and groaned when the throbbing headache at his temple made itself known. “Did you give me a fuckin’ shot of adrenaline?” he demanded in a voice that was too weak to actually command anyone.

“No. It’s been hours,” Bucky said. “I just woke you up. You were screaming and crying and flailing everywhere. I thought you were having a fuckin’ seizure.” He still hadn’t let go of Sam so the soldier just pressed his face to Bucky’s shoulder and held onto him.

“I’m sorry, Buck. I’m okay,” he promised softly.

“You were screaming our names. You sounded like you were dying. I was so fuckin’ scared.” Yes, Bucky could still get scared. What it took to get to that extreme wasn’t pleasant and this was one of those things.

“Did anyone else see?”

“I think the whole fuckin’ plane probably heard.”

“Bucky.”

“No. No one else was around. Steve might’ve been loitering by the door but I don’t know.”

Sam nodded and pressed closer to Bucky. Bucky dug his fingers into Sam’s shirt tighter and held him so close that Sam’s ribs were starting to ache.

“How close are we to landing?” Sam asked to distract Bucky from whatever breakdown he was having.

“An hour. Maybe less. I don’t know. I came in here and turned off the comms.” Which was worrisome. Sam reached up for the one in his ear and was pleased to find it in one piece. Bucky was good at destroying things he didn’t want around.

Bucky’s death grip on the back of Sam’s neck was lessening but he didn’t seem any keener to let go of Sam. “Buck, air,” Sam reminded gently, kissing his shoulder and pulling back slightly. Bucky’s hand slid down his neck to his chest, pushing him back and examining his face again.

“You need to see someone,” Bucky decided. “You need medication. You shouldn’t be having anything like that.”

Sam smiled sadly and ran his hand through Bucky’s hair. “I’m used to it. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!” Bucky objected. His hand tightened on Sam’s waist and Sam braced for another crushing embrace.

“It’s gonna be fine, Buck. They come and go. It’s fine.” Sam kissed Bucky’s temple and hugged him back tightly.

 

3.

“Man, look at this place,” Bucky laughed two hours later as he threw himself on a massive bed in a hotel. He’d already stripped out of his clothes for the most part and was sprawled in a very revealing manner. Sam threw a blanket at him. He went into the bathroom to see what amenities were provided and how much Bucky didn’t pack and by the time he came back out, Bucky was curled up in the bed and snoring against the blanket Sam had given him. He couldn’t do that when Sam wanted to sleep.

Sam made sure Bucky wasn’t angled painfully and left the room. The automatic, technological lock behind him was comforting, even if he knew Bucky could fend for himself. It was nice to think he was protecting Bucky for a change. He didn’t know where he was going and his feet took him down to the third floor, which was just the welcoming level that housed the extra amenities and a dining area.

And the other bird. Sam stumbled and nearly fell as someone jumped on his back and wrapped an arm around his shoulders though it mostly ended up being wrapped around his neck.

“Sam the man!” Clint shouted. He slid off Sam’s back when Sam shook him to one side. Sam unhooked his arm and Clint slung it over his shoulders without realizing his mistake in the first place. “Listen, dude, there’s the gym and it’s nice. Real nice. But it isn’t super soldier nice. You and me gotta look out for each other, brother.” Sam rolled his eyes but didn’t interrupt. It was easier to just let Clint get it all out. “Us humans gotta keep each other on our toes, in peak fitness, y’know?”

“Is Lang here?”

“Since when do you work out with Lang?”

“I don’t. You can though.”

“Nah, man. Gotta be you.”

“I don’t think it does.” But Clint was already pulling Sam down the hallway. Sam chanced a glance down the stairs that lead into the reception foyer. He always felt like the world was staring at them when they were out like this. All of them together. Surely people were already talking about the Winter Soldier and Iron Man and Captain America hunkering down somewhere. The metal arm wasn’t exactly discreet. Neither was Stark for that matter. It didn’t seem to bother Barton though and he used his card to get into the gym without looking away from his path once.

Yeah, alright, it was a nice gym. Spacious and with enough distance between equipment that no one would be breathing down anyone’s neck. No one but Barton, that was. The dude needed to be right on whoever he was working with. It was the pool that was on the other side of the polished-to-perfection glass wall that really caught Sam’s eye though. He wondered if he could connive Stark into renting out the pool. The image of Bucky doing laps for hours popped into his head and he had to forcefully will it away.

“Dude, look. Punching bags that aren’t already on their last leg. Cap isn’t allowed in here at all.” Barton laughed and shoved a punching bag away from him and dodged out of the way when it swung back. “Come on. Let’s test everything out.”

“Dude, we’re both in jeans and this is a polo shirt. I’m not exercising.”

“Never fear, the hawk is here,” Barton trumpeted grandly. He swung his gym bag around and set it down on a bench. “We’re the same size. This is great.” He dug out two shirts and two pairs of shorts before handing half of them to Sam.

What else was there to do when in Rome? Or Tokyo as it were. Sam stepped behind a machine and quickly changed. With Clint bouncing off the walls, it’d be impossible to escape, so he let Clint work him to the bone on various weights and resistance machines. When Sam worked out with Steve or Bucky, it was very much so leg orientated because he only ever went running with them. Super soldiers didn’t have to do weight and resistance training. Archers did. By the time Natasha came looking for Clint, Sam couldn’t feel either shoulder, most of his upper back, and even part of his neck. His arms felt like jello at his sides and he didn’t like the eyes Barton and Romanov were making at each other. Or the knife that was flipping between her fingers. He slipped out of the back door and towards the pool. If he jumped in now, he’d probably drown but there was a bubbling hot tub and he let himself fall into that after peeling out of Barton’s shorts and shirt.

He leaned against the edge, arms splayed either direction that made his shoulders ache in a good way, and dropped his head back. He slowly went through relaxation techniques. When he released his core and lower back, he felt his body rise in the water some and when he relaxed his thighs his ass stopped aching all the way up to his hips. He lost himself in the thrumming of his heart against his chest. He must have dozed off because he woke up with drool on his cheek and arm and a body pressing against his in the water.

“Barton, dude, you gotta wake me up first,” he groused as he wiped his eyes and dunked his arm under the water.

“Something you wanna tell me, Wilson?” a voice (that was decidedly not Barton’s) chuckled in his ear. Sam’s eyes shot open and he found himself side to side with Bucky instead. “Y’know, when I assumed you’d nap after the flight, I thought you’d be crawling into bed with me. Not into the hot tub alone. Or with Barton, I guess.”

“Oh, shut up,” Sam mumbled. He rubbed his eyes again and Bucky pressed closer, taking the opportunity to duck under Sam’s arm. He kissed Sam’s neck and Sam almost let out a damning sound.

“Woke up in that great  big bed by myself,” he pouted. He was pouting and he managed to make it seductive. Asshole. Sam felt one of Bucky’s hand trail along the inside of his thigh while the other massaged the base of his skull.

“We’re in public,” Sam warned, even as he tilted his head to the side.

“And you’re in boxers. You started this indecency epidemic.”

Sam smirked and tilted his hips to Bucky slightly. “I’m perfectly well covered.”

“Won’t be when you step out of this tub,” Bucky retorted, biting at Sam’s pulse point.

“Woulda been if you hadn’t started with this,”

Bucky smirked and wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist. He let himself float closer, mostly in front of Sam before sliding his hand up Sam’s thigh and under the leg of his boxers.

“Barnes,” Sam warned lowly before a soft gasp escaped his lips.

“You ain’t even hard yet. Killin’ my ego, Wilson,” Bucky laughed softly. Sam groaned as he felt Bucky’s hand roam and then settle right at the cleft of his ass to his thigh. So much for relaxation techniques. “Still sayin’ no?”

“You’re the worst.” Sam tilted his head to kiss Bucky properly and apparently Bucky took it as permission because he wrapped his fingers along Sam’s length and drew out a long sigh from him. “Thanks for not using your metal hand,” he added. Bucky smiled against his lips. The smile grew when Sam’s hands found Bucky’s waist and then his waistband and then his bare ass.

“These are my sweatpants,” Sam accused.

“You should take them back.”

“We’re in public.”

“I’ve got the AI in my ear watching the door.”

“How easy do you think it’d be for you to get your pants back on in the water?”

Bucky shoved his tongue in Sam’s mouth instead of answering and Sam willingly fell for it. He kissed back and sucked on Bucky’s tongue, reaching a hand up to tangle in his dark hair. Bucky braced his other hand against Sam’s ribs and shifted to straddle him more fully. He opted to shove his hand down the waist of Sam’s boxers and Sam moved a hand to the front of Bucky’s. Their breath mixed with steam between their mouths or jaws or necks or whatever was currently being kissed.

When Sam gasped, high pitched and sudden, Bucky quickened his pace and pressed closer to him. “Not in the public pool,” Sam urged, but only barely. Bucky bit Sam’s lip and then suddenly stopped. Sam went light headed and blinked stupidly at Bucky before looking at where his eyes were trained over Sam’s shoulder.

Steve was standing slack jawed at the service door, staring at them like they’d been murdering kittens. Or saluting Hydra.

“How long you been there?” Bucky asked.

“You lied about the AI,” Sam accused.

Steve didn’t say anything.

“Enjoying the show?”

“We’re in water, of course you don’t have an ear piece.”

Steve shifted, closed his mouth, but didn’t say anything.

“Sarah raised me not to be a pervert. Raised you even better than me.”

“The AI doesn’t even travel with us.”

Steve was silent. Bucky huffed and slid out of Sam’s lap. He pulled himself out of the water and the cascade off of his muscles was almost enough for Sam to pull him back into the pool. Sam watched Steve’s eyes travel quickly to and from Bucky’s crotch. Sam groaned and shoved at his own problem before standing up as well. He grabbed Barton’s shorts and held them in front of himself.

“Well, say something, you big oaf,” Bucky demanded, waving a hand at Steve.

“In public?” Steve finally managed in a strained voice. Now it was Sam’s turn to glance at his crotch and his ears burned as he looked anywhere else.

“Well, someone didn’t want to sleep in bed,” Bucky answered, oblivious.

“Buck, let’s just get back,” Sam said, reaching for Bucky’s arm.

“Nah, come on. Why are you out here?”

“Just wanted to come for a swim,” Steve said. His voice had regained some bass but not much.

“So you sulk in the shadows instead of making yourself known?” Bucky asked. Sam groaned and let his arms fall to the side when he was certain he wasn’t into it anymore.

“I’m going back to our room, shithead,” he said with a shove to Bucky’s shoulder. He turned to walk away. He heard Bucky and Steve still bickering with each other and bent to grab the clothes he’d discarded to get into the pool in the first place. “Play nice,” he called over his shoulder.

He paused at the door and waited for Bucky who didn’t disappoint, trotting up behind him and wrapping an arm around Sam’s waist. He kissed his neck in apology and held open the door.

“You know you aren’t fair with that ass.”

“I know I’m not,” Sam agreed with a nod. He reached for Bucky’s hand and was pleasantly surprised when Bucky let him take it. He was the pickiest about things like that. Sam had to let some of his frustration over it go though. Sam would probably be worried about who saw if he grew up in the 40s too.

Hell, even with Riley it was hard. Sam couldn’t count the times they’d held their hands over each other’s mouths. Riley had a scar around his thumb from biting on it to keep quiet. He always said it was because of his little sister fighting dirty.

“Hey, where are you going?” Bucky asked. Sam jerked to a stop and looked at Bucky. “Elevators?” he clarified, pointing ahead of where he’d stopped. He tugged Sam back to him and continued on.

“Don’t ask why I’m being weird,” Sam said before Bucky would have the chance. He heard Bucky huff next to him but he stayed quiet. The circled the stairs until they got to the second floor and Bucky took a moment to lean over the edge of the banister. A million and one catastrophes raced through Sam’s mind. He’d seen the man jump off overpasses and out of planes and from ten story buildings to the next roof. He knew that a single story fall wouldn’t even phase Bucky, but still, terror clutched at his heart and he reached out to grab Bucky’s waistband. He couldn’t deal with the image of Bucky sprawled on the ground with blood all around him and his limbs skewed. Even if it wasn’t real, the thought made his stomach turn over.

Sam’s heart raced faster and faster in his chest as ghost sensations of Bucky’s shirt slipping through his fingers pulled at his palm. He could feel how he’d be yanked against the railing. He could see Bucky falling, limbs flailing. One hand was stretched up to Sam and he was shouting but Sam couldn’t hear it. This wasn’t his memory. This was Steve’s stories getting to him. This was Steve’s pain, not Sam’s. It wasn’t fair. He had enough emotional baggage of his own. That didn’t stop his heart from beating so hard it was choking him at the base of his throat. He couldn’t draw in deep breaths or move. He wasn’t even sure what way his limbs were turned. He couldn’t feel them.

“Hey, hey, now. You were just complaining about me bein’ too public,” Bucky laughed as he turned around in Sam’s arms.

Sam blinked at him. “What?”

“You, taking off my pants in a crowded hallway,” Bucky said, leaning back against the hand that was still fisted in Bucky’s waistband.

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Sam let go of Bucky and smoothed his hand down his own thigh. He felt Bucky’s eyes on him but kept his own downcast.

“Well, I’m ready to see just how much that bed can do,” Bucky said with too much forced enthusiasm. Sam didn’t comment on it and let Bucky lead him back to their room.

 

4.

“Damn, Barnes, you ain’t gotta do me like that,” Sam laughed, albeit without breath. In the past four days, their bed had been more than tested. And it kept standing. Somehow.

Bucky rolled onto his side and kissed Sam’s shoulder slowly, his lips sliding easily against the dampness of the sweat that still lingered there. When he sat up to kiss Sam, the saltiness stung Sam’s lips and enticed him all the more. “You asked me to,” Bucky said raggedly.

Sam pushed him back down and kissed a line from the hollow of his jaw and neck, over his adam’s apple, and to the v between his collar bones. “Thought we agreed you weren’t supposed to talk after sex.”

Bucky laughed, low and rough, and Sam kissed his adam’s apple to feel it against his lips. “Can’t deny you what you love, doll.” A shudder ran through Sam’s body and Bucky laughed again. “You seem ready to go again already.”

“You know just how to play me. That isn’t my fault.”

“I ain’t blamin’ you,” Bucky promised with a grin. He ran his metal fingers up and down Sam’s back and sent a real chill racing over his skin. “I wouldn’t be able to resist me either.”

“I hate you, y’know?” Sam laughed, laying next to Bucky and running his fingers up and down the middle of his chest.

“Nah, you don’t. You ready to ship out tomorrow?” Sam cringed and Bucky stiffened next to him. “Shit. Sorry. I forget.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s not like there’s many other ways to say it.”

“Still, I can watch  my mouth.”

“When has that ever happened?”

Bucky elbowed him in the ribs and Sam had to work down a legitimate cough. The last thing he wanted was to guilt him further.

“Will you tell me about him?” Bucky asked after a few more minutes of silent stroking and light breaths.

Sam sighed and turned on his back, folding his arm under his head. He found a pattern in the ceiling and mindlessly traced it with his eyes until it started to hurt his head. Bucky, in turn, propped himself up on his arm to loom over Sam’s side. He worked a leg between Sam’s and gave him a few minutes before tapping on his chin  until Sam scowled and focused his gaze back on Bucky.

“Do we have to do this? We’re on a pseudo vacation.”

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” Bucky asked, raising a challenging eyebrow. “All this shit recently...it’s about him, right?”

“ _He_ has a name.”And if Sam’s tone was a little harsher than normal, he thought it was justified.

“It’s about Riley, right?”

Sam didn’t cringe like he wanted to. He sighed and closed his eyes instead. How could it still hurt to hear his name? Shit like that wasn’t fair. It’s not like he didn’t know it was going to hurt. He acted as a counselor for God’s sake. He knew what he put everyone else through. He’d been through it himself. But this was old. This was supposed to be buried. Instead, it was like there was only a thin dusting of sand over it and any sudden movement or gust was going to expose it all over again.

“What did his laugh sound like?”

Now Sam did cringe and took a second to swallow down the knot in his throat. “It was loud. He was so fucking obnoxious all the time.” Bucky snorted over him. “He was so sure of himself. He didn’t have to reign in his laughter. Like, scoffing and snorting wasn’t his thing. He never stifled it.” He ran a hand down his face and over a grin that suddenly pulled at his lips. “The first time we kissed each other, he knocked his teeth into mine ‘cause he was grinning and I was smiling and then he laughed and laughed. Thought he was laughing at me. We got into an argument about it and then ended up kissing each other again ‘cause it was the only way to shut each other up.”

“How long had you known each other?”

“Shit, I don’t know. A couple of months of basic and a couple of weeks out in the field together. Couldn’t have been more than five months before we were tearing our clothes off.”

“You never wait long, huh?”

How was Sam supposed to say there was no point in waiting when bullets didn’t wait, and deployment didn’t wait, and falling out of the damn sky didn’t wait. Clint and Nat got it. Steve got it. Why couldn’t Bucky? Bucky, who people people always found a way to take from the people that loved him. Bucky, who died and had come back already. Bucky, who rushed into danger but never let his best friend do the same. He knew death. He knew mortality. Just not his own.

“What’d he look like?”

Sam knew this tired trick. Bucky had pulled it on him a few times when they’d first started...all of this. It wasn’t quite dating at first. It was more like broken kindred spirits finding a safe place to land. Bucky knew it was easier to talk about something that was only distantly related to the nightmares--his favorite Russian song, Sarah Rogers’ apple pie, best vantage points for a shot, just what shade of blue Steve’s eyes were--and he knew that that thing was Riley for Sam. Every time, it was Riley. So, no matter how often he saw Riley’s pictures, he asked Sam, ‘what did he look like?’ ‘what color were his eyes?’ ‘where did he have scars?’ Sam indulged him in a similar conversation every time. The repetition and monotony was enough to calm him down and he just wanted Bucky to keep talking to him.

“You pulled files on the entire team and their connections when you were researching Steve.”

“I didn’t bother with files of people I wouldn’t meet.”

Sam cringed but managed to get out, “Bullshit,” in a level tone.

“I knew better than to pry into a partner that had died. Even without knowing the extent of the title.”

Finally, Sam relented. “He was just barely taller than me, I guess. Blond. Darker than Steve’s, though. Looked like sand. We used to joke that he could disappear in the dunes, that he’d be our spy. He was lean. Kid could work out day in and day out and not bulk up. He always wore jeans. First time I took him home, he tried to go to church in some old Levis and my momma nearly whooped his grown ass.”

“Noted.”

Sam opened his eyes and looked up at Bucky. “Is that you saying you want to meet my mom?”

Bucky shrugged and nudged Sam’s side. “Keep going.”

“He had a scar over his lower lip. It was raised and you could feel it when he kissed you. He had these old wire frame glasses. He rarely wore them unless we were home. I remember one time he got sand in his contacts and tried to fly blind. Fucking idiot.”

“How long did you have him?”

“Seven years.”

“Jesus. Seven years is to the core, huh?”

“Yeah.” Maybe it wasn’t a matter of recovery only being a dusting. Maybe he just couldn’t fix something that was bone deep. Deep as his breath and his heart and his dreams. How was time supposed to fight something that was never going away until he died too?

“What were your plans?”

“Dude, I really don’t want to deal with this.”

“Come on. You all pick my brain day in and day out.”

“I never pushed you.”

Bucky chewed on the inside of his lower lip and brought a dimple to the surface of his skin. “I’m sorry I can’t help you, doll.”

“You do help, Bucky.” Sam pushed him back and slid back to his side, resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder again and closing his eyes. Bucky ran his hand up and down Sam’s back and hummed some old lullaby that he never sang the words too. Sam suspected it was in Russian. Steve had money on Gaelic. He said he’d know the tune but Sam couldn’t recreate it. Besides, he liked having something that was only his and Bucky’s, even if he didn’t fully understand it.

“I saw Steve the whole time I was falling.” His hand didn’t waiver on Sam’s back but he was breathing too evenly, too shallowly.

“Buck, you don’t have to.”

“No, I want to. I remember hanging on. It was so fucking cold. That metal on my hands. It hurt and I was stuck to it. You know how you do with ice. It probably took all the skin off my hands when it tore away. Thought for sure the door was gonna slice me in half. It was angled towards me and it was falling faster than me but it got swept up in the wind.”

Sam shuddered at the idea of something even worse happening to Bucky. The image of Bucky being bisected in the middle of the air, of his blood falling with him. A horror scene suspended in air. It’d be stuck in his head and his nightmares for life now.

“But I watched him the whole time. I could see him until the train went around the next bend.”

“I couldn’t see Riley fall. There was so much sand being kicked up from everything. I didn’t even see him get hit. I felt it. I felt it like someone had kicked me in the chest. We were synched up, our comms and vitals. His went dead and it felt like I was being sucked into a vortex. My soul realized what dead silence meant before my brain did.”

“How do you know what happened? You know he was hit by a RPG.”

“I saw the explosion. I saw him spiral down. You only spiral like that…”

“Like James Rhodes.”

Sam didn’t answer. He curled his fingers tighter into a fist, dragging his nails over Bucky’s stomach.

“Jesus, you watched him fall too. No wonder you dove down--”

“Like a man going after his best friend. Yeah.”

If Sam knew Bucky at all, he knew there was a muscle working in his jaw and he was staring straight ahead, or up in this case. “It’s bullshit.”

Sam hummed his agreement. “Let’s just forget it.” He was tired of feeling biting snowy wind against one cheek and desert heat on the other while he dove down after the people who mattered most to him.

Fuck, he didn’t even go after either. Well, Steve didn’t go after Bucky and Sam didn’t go after Riley. They fucking died alone. And Sam was pretty certain that Steve felt the terrible ache in his chest that Sam had felt then and had crept back in now. Like everything had been scooped out clean against the bone and he’d been sent on his way again.

“Wish we could, doll,” Bucky sighed, wrapping his arm around Sam’s shoulder and then turning over to flop across Sam.

Somehow or another, he managed to draw a strangled laugh from Sam who wrapped his arms around Bucky and kissed his temple. “Night, babe,” he sighed.

“Night, you gap toothed nerd.”

Sam didn’t call him Riley outloud, but he fell asleep with a smile on his face and some retort on his tongue.

 

5.

_“Jesus, Riles,” Sam growled, crawling out of a window onto the wing of a fighter jet. It was down for maintenance and the side of it Riley had stolen away to faced out into the desert. The setting sun turned white sand into a mirage of fire and Riley was leaned against the dark metal in a tanktop and shorts that he kept hidden in his pillowcase during inspections._

_“I think I just took all the skin off my spine doing that for you.” Sam huffed out a breath and sat down hard next to his best friend. Riley tilted the bag of almonds he was eating towards Sam wordlessly. “It’s pretty isn’t it?” Sam asked._

_Riley hummed, moved the bag to his other hand, and wrapped his arm over Sam’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “Only good thing about bein’ out here,” he agreed. Sam melted against his side. The thick, low voice filled every part of his soul in a way he didn’t know he needed._

_“You don’t mean that.”_

_“It’s what you wanted to hear.”_

_“My hero,” Sam cooed sarcastically. When he tilted his head up, Riley met him halfway with a kiss. “My hero’s gonna get us kicked out.”_

_“Worth it.”_

_“You don’t mean that either.”_

_“Every word of it, ya gap toothed nerd.” Riley grinned and kissed him again. Everyone  was on the other side of the plane or back at camp already. It wasn’t late enough for patrol, so they were all alone. Sam doubted anyone could see them this high anyway._

_“Yeah, alright, we’re up on this plane ‘cause you’re an adrenaline junkie but I get called names. ‘Kay. White people.” Sam shook his head in mock disbelief. Riley grinned and kissed him again anyway._

_Then something banged above them, heavy and certain, something falling on the roof. Something_ landing _on the roof. Just as Sam looked up, something dark, quick, and agile tumbled over them and onto the wing in front of them._

_The wind bit at his cheeks and stung his eyes. When had they started moving? How did they even get in the air?_

_The Winter Soldier loomed over them. His face was covered with goggles and a mask. He was in black tactical gear from head to toe. Sam was still sitting against the wing and outer wall but Riley had worked himself into a crouch. His body was posed in the defensive and Sam wanted to grab him and hold him close, tell him he was going to fall and lose and that Sam couldn’t deal with that right now. Not ever, actually._

_“What the fuck are you?” Riley spat out. He was somehow loud and clear over the engines. Was there even an engine sound? How was this plane flying?_

_The Soldier raised his gun to Riley’s head and Sam shot up, pulling Riley to him and putting his body between the Soldier and his soldier._

_“Please, God, don’t do that.”_

_“I’m not God,” the soldier snarled. It was terrifying and savage and so, so inhuman. “Get down on your knees. Hurry up.”_

_Sam went down and he was holding Riley so tightly that the other soldier had no choice but to go down with him._

_“Listen, fucker, we ain’t talkin’ to no terrorist, no matter how much shit they put on your ugly mug.”_

_“Ain’t that ugly,” Bucky said on Sam’s other side._

_“Ya can’t fuckin’ see it,” Riley responded in a scoff._

_The soldier glared at all of them. “Shut the fuck up. I’ll throw all of you off this fucking plane.” He pulled a second gun from a thigh holster and pointed it at Bucky’s head now too._

_“Look at the cheekbones though. Ain’t ugly.”_

_“Shut up,” Sam hissed._

_The soldier cocked his head at Sam. “You,” he said._

_“Like fuck you’re gonna do anything to him.”_

_“I’ll take you over the edge myself,” Bucky added, blue eyes hard as steel._

_The plane tilted and Riley and Bucky both jolted into Sam, counteracting the force without even saying anything to each other._

_“Him,” the soldier repeated, stepping forward and reaching for Sam’s shirt. Sam stood up before either of his guys could stop him. He got to his feet in a way that escaped his knowing and he stood in the Soldier’s space, glaring at his reflection in the goggles._

_“Me, not them,” he agreed._

_Still, the Soldier raised his guns to Bucky and Riley. Sam threw himself into the Soldier’s body and then went tumbling down. They were on the narrow part of the wing and the Soldier’s shoulders reached from edge to edge. His guns were lost in the scramble, hands around Sam’s neck. Sam scratched at what was visible of his face. The mask peeled away and got lodged between the Soldier’s chin and neck. Sam shoved his goggles away just before the Soldier managed to get a foot between them and kicked Sam off him. He flew back a few feet and scrambled the rest to safety. Bucky grabbed one arm, Riley the other._

_Only, he couldn’t be because Riley was standing over them, dark eye makeup around his face and his beautiful amber eyes a hard black. There were scratches down his face and a cut between his collar bones. The mask was still where he’d ripped it off._

_“Begging for your life won’t make a fucking difference to me,” the soldier snarled. “Begging for his won’t either.” Before Sam could think to move, the Soldier had pulled a gun from somewhere, angled it to Bucky, and shot three times._

_Bucky fell to the side. He was sliding. There was blood and he was sliding off the wing._

_“You fucker,” Riley shouted, diving at the Soldier. But the Soldier wasn’t there either and Riley tumbled down the other side of the wing. There was no way Sam could reach them both. He had to choose. Jesus, how could he choose?_

 

He dove right into Bucky’s side, pinning his arm between adamantium ribs and sore ribs. Bucky scooted over in the bed but didn’t wake up. Some unholy construction crew was banging around outside and drunk bodies shouted back and forth at each other. There was no wind. No engine. The room was nearly pitch black with the exception of a neon blue glow along the blinds and Bucky’s blinking phone on the floor, not charging. Idiot.

A task. Sam could do a task. He leaned over Bucky and plugged the phone in next to his before laying back down. Bucky didn’t shift even a little bit. He was sprawled across the bed, one leg wrapped around one of Sam’s, an arm over his eyes, the other under Sam’s pillow. He was big enough as it was and then went and made himself even bigger.

Over compensating dick.

Sam laid back down next to him and slowly traced his thumb over the bow in Bucky’s lips. The other man smiled in his sleep and tilted his head a little closer to Sam’s touch. His hair fanned out behind him, stark against the light pillowcase. His tucked his arm against his chest and exposed his face, free of any furrows, wrinkles, or scowls. He looked just like the pictures from the textbooks. Just like them and so much better at the same time. Sam left his lips alone and tangled his fingers in Bucky’s hand against his chest, tucking his head against Bucky’s other arm and letting out a sigh. Bucky squeezed his fingers and mimicked.

Jesus. Tomorrow couldn’t go like all these dreams. He couldn’t lose this. He wouldn’t lose this.

 

+1

The mission was a shitshow from the beginning. Natasha’s contact turned and left her and Barton compromised. All their positions were fucked and Sam up high was the only one who hadn’t already taken a beating. Steve and Tony were shouting out new plans with every step the team took and Sam was moving people from one position to the next as fast as he could.

It wasn’t helping.

The problem with having missions ending up televised was that it was easy to learn a style. Especially in a group. When Sam played football in high school, they did shit like that all the time. Went to rivals’ games and figured out their plays. Usually Sam’s school tried to change up plays when they knew they were being scouted.

The team hadn’t know they were being scouted. They didn’t have a backup plan. They hadn’t thought to write new plays. Hell, they’d been telling their plays to someone who went and sold them to the next team.

Fuck everything.

Sam had just managed to get Clint free with his bird’s eye view of where he was being held when Bucky suddenly barked across their comm line, “Wilson, get me the fuck out of here.”

He took off in Bucky’s direction, diving down in the middle of the hail fire that Bucky was half of. He made sure his wings were between them and the bullets before flying back into the sky.

“You’re too fucking heavy for this, Barnes,” Sam complained as Bucky wrapped his legs tighter around Sam’s waist.

“You ain’t got no problem holding me against the shower wall,” Bucky answered.

“Oh, gross, dudes. We’re still on the line,” Clint groaned, rapid fire shots following his voice.

But Sam would make any number of sex jokes if it meant Bucky stopped shaking in his arms. It had been one of the hardest things for Bucky to come to terms with. After a service of amazing accomplishments as a sniper, he could hardly look out a fourth floor window without getting sick. No matter how often Sam told him that was natural--especially after falling thousands of feet--and no matter how many times Steve said he felt the same way and he, in fact, had not fallen thousands of feet, Bucky wouldn’t listen and only got more and more frustrated with himself the longer he broke down in the face of heights.

As it was, his face was pressed to Sam’s neck and he was shaking hard enough that Sam was scared he might drop him.

No.

No. He wasn’t going to drop him. Nothing was going to happen. They were going to be fine and he’d let Bucky kick Romanov’s ass for the bad intel.

“Wilson, you’re hot,” Tony said suddenly.

Even Bucky managed a snarled, “Excuse me?” into the comm before Steve was shouting, “You’re tagged, you’re tagged! Go high, Sam!”

Without thinking, without worrying about Bucky, Sam shot upwards. He felt Bucky slid down in his arms but quickly hooked one arm under his ass to keep him up. He wrapped his other arm around Bucky’s shoulders and quickly bit out, “keep your head against me,” before he flipped backwards and let them free fall.

Maybe Bucky screamed, Sam didn’t know. Steve was never sure if Bucky had when he’d fallen. Between the wind and the way pain was detrimental to memories, he didn’t trust anything in his mind of that day. Sam understood now. But, when he righted himself, Bucky was still against his chest, holding onto his gear like he was frozen. Something exploded right where they’d been and Sam quickly moved out of the way of debris.

“Don’t you ever…”

“Wasn’t gonna let you get shot down too.”

“More like wasn’t gonna let your pretty ass get shot down.”

“Yeah, that too.”

Sam moved a hand Bucky’s hair and scratched just at the base of his skull. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“Put me on the fucking ground,” Bucky demanded, but his voice was weak and straining. Sam listened to him without fight. He’d just started down when something hit him square in the back, right at the center of his pack.

“Sam!” Steve shouted just as a burst of electricity shot through his entire body.

He felt Bucky jerk with the energy just before he let go of him.

Bucky was falling.

Oh, God. Bucky was falling.

Sam’s blood roared in his ears and another shock ran through his body. His pack hadn’t given out yet though and he dove down after Bucky. The wings weren’t retracting all the way but fuck it. He reached out a hand and saw Bucky’s own terror stricken expression as he reached back.

“Bucky! No!” he shouted. The man was falling faster than Sam could dive. That wasn’t fair. That wasn’t fair! Why wasn’t his pack working? Another shock worked it’s way through him and he curled into a ball of pain. The wings retracted and he fell faster. He only just managed to right himself in time for him for Bucky and he to grab each other. They were going to hit the ground. Jesus Christ, they were going to hit the ground.

Sam got the wings open and metal groaned in loud, painful protest. Whether it was his pack or Bucky’s arm, he didn’t know. Another shock and he felt the wings fold upwards, causing little resistance, felt Bucky spasm in his arms. They were still going to hit the ground. Jesus, fuck. He somehow got Bucky against him again, laid right against his chest and then scooted over a little towards Bucky’s human side. He folded his right arm--full of consoles and controls--against Bucky’s head and tilted them to his reinforced side. As much as he could, he tried to get his left wing around them.

They hit the ground.

 

_It was bright and nondescript wherever Sam woke up. Fine sand coated the ground but there was not sun, no horizon, no furniture. He couldn’t tell if he was outside or inside. It didn’t really feel like anything. He stood up and brushed his clothes free of sand before looking around._

_He was there. He was standing right there._

_That couldn’t be right._

_He grinned and held his arms out as he turned. That was his grin. Crooked and hopeful and loving. Jesus, he was here._

_Sam had crossed to him before he realized what he was doing. He fisted his hands in his stupid tan shirt and then thought better and ran them down the side of his jeans. “Riley,” he breathed softly._

_“Hey, Sammy.” He ran his hand over Sam’s head and all the callouses were there. Maybe it wasn’t the rivets of metal fingers, but it was just as good._

_“Oh, God, Riles.” Sam quickly wrapped his arms around Riley’s chest and squeezed him close. He pressed his face to Riley’s neck and took a deep breath. It wasn’t totally him. Wasn’t quite the right mix of spices and expensive shaving cream, but it was close enough. It was_ something _. “Heaven’s too cheap to send a real angel?” Sam managed to choke out._

_Riley laughed and the sound vibrated through Sam’s chest. It was all so perfect, so right. Sam couldn’t get this in his best dreams. “They send someone you know, asshole.” He kissed the top of Sam’s head and then pulled him away to hold his face and stare at him. “Jesus, look at you,” he breathed._

_“You gonna come take me away to whatever’s next?”_

_Pain skittered across Riley’s face before he schooled himself again. He smiled softly and brushed his thumb over Sam’s jaw slowly. “Not yet, gorgeous. Just gonna stay with you until you find your way back.”_

_Sam felt his heart break and leap at the same time. He was so tired of being pulled between Riley and Bucky and even in death he had to do the same thing. This was supposed to be the deciding factor._

_“I don’t want to find my way back. I want to stay here, Riles.”_

_“Yeah, I know. And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you right here for the rest of ever. But Heaven’s not ready for you yet.”_

_“Well get it ready, you lazy bastard.”_

_Riley laughed again and kissed Sam’s hairline. “I ain’t even an angel, like you already pointed out.”_

_Sam let out a shuddery sigh and held onto Riley tighter. “I don’t want to go. I can’t lose you again. I already let you slip through my fingers once.”_

_“Sammy, you’ve already lost me. We’re not together again. This is temporary. I’m just guiding you back where you belong.”_

_“I belong here. I belong in your arms. Please don’t make me leave.”_

_“I know, baby. I know it was hard. But you can do it again. You have Barnes now. He loves you like I love you. You’re gonna let him hurt like you hurt when I fell?”_

_“You don’t know, Riley. You can’t know. God, it’s been…”_

_Riley kissed him again and rubbed his back. “Sammy, it’s time.” He grabbed Sam’s hand and tangled their fingers together, palm to hand back. He pressed Sam’s hand to his own chest, over his heart. “You’ve still got this. This is worth fighting for. You’ve got so much living to do. So much_ more _to do.”_

_“I love you so much. I don’t want to say goodbye.”_

_“You were never very good at those, were you?” Riley hummed in agreement. Sam wiped his tears on the shoulder of Riley’s shirt and earned a protesting noise. “It’s going to be okay. You can’t hurt Barnes like I hurt you, okay?”_

_Sam nodded and hugged Riley tightly one more time. “I love you.”_

_“I love you too, ya gap toothed nerd. I love you more than I can say. And you’re never alone, alright? I’ll be right with you until I get to take you back with me for real.”_

_Sam smiled and nodded. It wasn’t going to be any easier knowing Riley was right in arm’s reach but it was comforting. “Gonna be there when I screw a geriatric?”_

_Riley laughed. “God, no. Everything else, though. Gonna bitch about how you make eggs and drinking milk out of the carton and waiting too long at crosswalks.”_

_“I love you.”_

_“Go back, Sam. They’re all waiting for you.” Riley kissed his forehead again and Sam shut his eyes._

_When he opened them, the blinding brightness was just the stark white walls of a hospital room._

_And there he was._

 

Bucky woke up first. Of course he did. Sam was a human. Oh, God. Sam was dead. There was so much blood. His arm was a mangled mess and his head was red. He was bleeding so much.

“Sam?” Bucky shouted. Blood dripped off the side of his own head, soaked into his gear at his side, but fuck it. “Sammy? Oh, Jesus. Please, please wake up,” he pleaded. He jerked back as a shock ran through him and Sam’s body spasmed too. “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.” He tried to shove Sam’s pack off his shoulders and quickly ripped through the straps that wrapped around his chest, waist, and thighs. He kicked the stupid thing away and held Sam as still as he could. You didn’t move people who might’ve had spinal injuries, right? God, what if he was really hurt? What if there was no fixing it? What if he actually was dead? He was only human.

Someone was running towards them and Bucky lifted his gun to shoot without looking.

“Stand down, stand down!” Steve shouted. His feet skidded on the gravel loudly as he turned on the spot to avoid any shot Bucky might’ve taken. He dropped to his knees by Sam and a high keen pierced through the throbbing pain in Bucky’s head. “It’s neutralized. Tony tracked where the projectiles were coming from.”

“He’s dead,” Bucky said brokenly, ignoring Steve.

“He’s not dead. Don’t say that, Buck.” Steve tried to shift around Sam’s body. His hands hovered uselessly before he quickly hooked his arms under Sam’s armpits. “Get his legs. Stay on that side. One arm under the small of his back. The other behind his knees.”

“You’re going to jostle him. You’re going to break his back. Jesus Christ, Steve, he fell as far as I did.”

“You hit first.”

Bucky blinked and then looked to his left side. The arm was trying desperately to recalibrate itself and fix the plates that had been crushed together on impact. He slowly pulled his shirt up and found a gash to the bone over his ribs but everything else was intact.

“The bastard. He used me as a fucking pillow. He broke the fall…”

“What?” Steve stared at him, one hand pressed flat over Sam’s chest. “There’s a heartbeat. He’s alive.”

“Adamantium doesn’t yield. It doesn’t break. He knew it was safer for me to hit the ground than him. Jesus, he put his arm around my head.”

“Hey, pull yourself together,” Steve snapped. It didn’t keep Bucky from noticing how his hands were shaking. “We’ve got to get him to medical.”

“How long ago did we fall?”

“I don’t know. Ten minutes? How long have you been up?”

Bucky shook his head and shifted to hold Sam as he was instructed. His entire body was shivering and he could feel his arm spasming.

“Bucky, it isn’t the mountains. You’re still with us,” Steve said. They stood together, in sync even while Bucky’s world was tearing away at the seams.

All he could remember was falling. It hadn’t felt the same. Seeing Sam, seeing him flying down too, it was different. It had been quieter. He was still terrified. He still felt like he was dying. But there was Sam. And most of his energy had been focused on Sam not dying too.

And now here they were anyway.

The arm was fucked and he couldn’t get it to stabilize, to hold Sam that much stiller, but they still managed to get back to the hellicarrier without moving him too much. Someone took him and Bucky swayed with the loss of Sam’s weight in his arms.

“Bucky, are you alright?” Steve’s voice was far away but when Bucky pitched backwards, Steve was there to catch him. It was such a reversal of their life back then. Everything was different than back then. Sam was especially different. And now Sam was dying and Bucky had fallen out of the sky and it was only Steve and Bucky left to prop each other up and lick their wounds.

Bucky didn’t want that life anymore. He’d made his own. He’d taken his own back and he was losing it again.

“Bucky? Oh, Jesus, he’s covered in blood. Someone, please!” Bucky felt Steve drag him to a cot, felt him tear through the tactile gear. “Oh, God, Buck, what did you do?”

Bucky thought he might’ve grunted his displeasure but he couldn’t remember.

 

Sam couldn’t move. One arm was casted from his fingers to his shoulder and then held above him and his ribs were wrapped tightly. When he tilted his head, he heard gauze scratch against the pillow under him. He didn’t even want to know what was keeping his hips in place. Bucky was slouched over in the chair next to the bed. He had a large bandage pasted over his ribs and more bandages peaked out from the waistband of his sweats. He was using his shirt was a pillow against the sink that was attached to the wall and his hair was neatly tied back in a ponytail to bandage some of his forehead and neck. There was a square of hair shaved away, but the cut had already healed. He wasn’t going to be happy about the bald spot.

Sam’s left arm was free and he experimentally pushed the button nestled in his hand. It’d either call a nurse or increase his morphine and he wanted both. Apparently it could also wake Bucky up. The other soldier jerked upright and stared blearily at Sam before reaching over to take the button. Sam tapped his hand and Bucky sighed longsufferingly but slipped his fingers between Sam’s.

“You’re more metal than I am now,” he muttered. There was that beautiful sleep rough voice. All the drawls in the right place.

“I doubt that, Cyborg.”

Bucky squeezed his hand but it definitely didn’t hurt or even register as a condemnation until a few seconds later.

“You’ve got a metal ball as your shoulder, and rods connected to your humerus, ulna, and radius. Five of your wrist bones are metal too,” Bucky listed with a practiced air. “There’s a metal plate holding your sacrum and pelvis together and another ball acting as the joint for your right hip. I tried to convince them to wire your mouth shut, but no.”

Sam smiled, slow and soft. “You like my mouth being open.”

“Only when…” Bucky stopped and looked away. “Sorry. I can’t...I can’t joke right now.”

“You were managing earlier.”

“I hadn’t looked at your face earlier. You’re like a medical production of Phantom of the Opera.” Bucky took a deep breath and Sam braced himself. “What made you do something so completely assheaded and stupid and moronic? Are you looking to die? Because I can make that easy for you! I’ll do it myself! Jesus Christ, you free fell… You are a fucking human, Samuel! You don’t get to watch Steve and me jump out of airplanes and decide that you get to do it too! You idiotic son of a bitch! What were you thinking?”

“That I wasn’t gonna let you fall too...again.” Sam sighed and then grimaced as he tried to shift on the bed.

“Stay fucking still,” Bucky barked.

“We’ve both got our demons in the air. I wasn’t going to let them win again.”

“I’m going to murder you.”

“Are you okay?” Sam asked softly, squeezing Bucky’s hand.

“I’ve survived worse. You know what I wouldn’t survive?”

“Riley said you wouldn’t survive losing me.”

“I wouldn’t have survived losing you! I wouldn’t have walked out of that fight....” Bucky leveled a gaze on him. “What did you say?”

“I said, Riley told me you love me the way I love him.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t talk to Riley he’s…”

Sam stayed quiet.

“You had a fucking Heaven experience.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was a complex dream or something. I just know...it felt real.”

“I’m going to murder you so you can test it again.”

Sam smiled and weakly tugged on Bucky’s hand. Bucky moved their hands to Sam’s chest gently.

“It worked.”

“What? Testing the limit of my nerves? Yeah, you found it.”

“Landing on your side.”

“And about that!” Bucky started in again, leaning towards the bed and holding Sam’s hand tighter. Sam smiled as Bucky ranted and got his energy out of his system. They were alive. They were in one, reconstructed, piece. Bucky could yell his version of love as long as he liked. Sam was more than happy.

“I ain’t never falling for you again.”

Sam hummed and nodded stiffly. “You’re already in love with me. I don’t need nothing else.”

Bucky scoffed but pulled their hands to his lips. Yes, Sam was more than happy and it was all Riley’s fault.

**Author's Note:**

> Sarsaparilla can be found on Tumblr at [sarsasart.tumblr.com](http://sarsasart.tumblr.com/)  
> And I'm [Here to be yelled at](http://abarbaricyalp.tumblr.com)  
> 


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